


Random Prompt Drabbles

by RosePhantoma



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series, Final Fantasy XIII-2, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, LUKA IS THE ONE WHO SELLS TEARS IN LUXERION, Multi, Post-Canon, Universe Alteration, i'm so mad there's not a character tag for her, includes bad end au and plot spoilers, some are written really REALLY stream of consciousness so if it seems odd that's why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6344692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosePhantoma/pseuds/RosePhantoma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>abandoned. presented as-is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. disconcerting peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> serah-centric, might be considered eyes of etro in the new world.

_**it was what they had always dreamed of.**_ a world of peace, of freedom. no longer must they bend to the will of fal'cie or god. their lives were their own — and their folly as well. blame was best placed in they who perpetrated a wrong.

even so, serah knew something was missing. her days had gradually become more monochrome, lesser in energy until even snow had lost his spark. he stopped going out as much, sat by her side and held her through the moments of crippling anxiety. something was gone, two very important people they couldn’t have made it this far without. but who? who was left behind in the age of crystal, in the world long since lost to chaos?

she couldn’t have remembered if she tried, thoughts fixated on it but unable to progress any further. serah could acknowledge the problem but couldn’t even begin to find a source. her dreams were a swirl of rose and silver. of steel and intellect and hopes abandoned to the winds of timelessness. but even those who claimed to be skilled in translating the meaning of dreams fell silent at what she had to tell.

after months, they shifted. fight and spirit were gone, an almost eerie stillness left in their place. she now often woke gasping in a cold sweat. somehow she knew these images weren’t of the past, but the present.

noel feared these strangely prophetic seeming dreams, worried she yet bore the eyes of a goddess long lost. but never thought it the same as her dreams of a timeless world, her visions of the future. it was too vague, too blurred by something. she began struggling to find meaning in these dreams, for something must have brought them to her. perhaps the people in it were the ones they were missing.

maybe her dreams held the key to returning them.

serah urged snow to go back to work, swore she’d be fine. yet she slept more when he left the house, grasped desperately at the flashes of images she recalled in her waking hours. so stately were the figures in her dream. almost divine.

most thought her over stressed when she mentioned it, calling the age of crystal and gods long since dead. but then who were these figures, so unlike the compassionate etro and the fearsome-looking depictions of bhunivelze?

serah began believing that there was yet a god watching over them. a goddess protecting them from a greater evil than humankind should ever have known. none could wrest this belief from her, not now. too long had been spent lost to the flashes, the glimpses of something beyond their world…

it wasn’t surprising when she found herself waking up on the floor of the kitchen, though perhaps it should have been. the love of her life seemed terrified for her, but she couldn’t have been more excited. they’d reached out to her. spoken to her. and she knew what she was now, in this new world where so little held a sense of purpose. she was their voice, their sole link to this world.

the depictions of the god of light had been wrong in the old world. the face that seemed so familiar seen in crystal clarity was his. and the one at his side, at his feet, was his goddess of death. the one who took the souls of the dead and brought them new life…


	2. regret and dissension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alyssa-centric, primarily set in 4XXAF

she’d always had a feeling her nightmares were real. getting a visit from caius, the violet-haired man from the oracle drive, while she slept away the time until 400af just erased any of her doubts. she had to save herself. alyssa zaidelle had to survive.

so she’d accepted the artefact he’d offered, believed everything he said about noel and serah. if she was going to make it to the future, to the launching of the new ark… she had to get rid of them. it would all be so easy, they’d probably never even realize what she’d done. a mistake, an error in the historia crux. surely that was all they would think it was, he’d assured her.

the day had come, when she was to give them the artefact. she’d told them of the graviton cores and they’d already handed over four pieces of the precious substance. but while they waited for the fifth and final … the director called for her, tone low enough that she’d be the only one to hear. her head inclined as she jogged over, a faint smile on her face.  **❝yes, director?❞**  a soft murmur to announce he had her attention, and then she was silent in anticipation.

**❝i wanted to thank you, alyssa,❞**  he began, holding a hand out. for a while, she wondered whatever for, but then it occurred to her that he wanted her to offer one of hers in exchange. so she did, placing her hand in his, trying to ignore the flash of anxiety that overtook her. he couldn’t know. It was _impossible_. **❝you’ve done … so much to get us here,❞**  hope continued, a smile brightening his usually stoic expression. and alyssa couldn’t help but smile back, pleased to see him so happy. and it was because of _her_. **❝you’ve worked tirelessly, never complained a bit. and you’re the only other member of the original team still here. you don’t know what it means to me to know you were willing to risk your life to follow me here…❞**

her smile faded, eyes dropping in spite of her intent to stay dishonest. she couldn’t ruin this all now… but the director was so happy… her free hand swung, the other almost slipped free of his grip until hope held on a bit tighter.  **❝director, i … you do me too much credit…❞**

**❝oh, but i don’t.❞** he gently argued. the fact that he genuinely believed in her nearly tore her heart out. **❝every brilliant plan that’s bright us this far was because of your ideas.❞**

**❝director…❞** but serah and noel walked in then, drawing both their gazes and letting her hand be dropped. **❝oh, you’re back! have you found the last graviton core?❞** stay happy, stay positive. don’t let them know what you plan to do. take the god damn core and hand over the trapped artefact. she’d done it a thousand times in her dreams, sent them off with a smile and well wishes, promises to see them in the future…

_** it hadn’t been as hard as this earlier… ** _


	3. a broken future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> luka narrated and luka-centric  
> also focuses around just how badly the era of chaos stuff affected hope.  
> first-person, so it might come across a bit odd. i don't write first person often.

**_he was the cleverest person i had ever met but seemed to be malfunctioning in some way._ **

if he thought i didn’t notice the way his eyes wouldn’t stay on me, the shaking of his hands, he was sorely wrong. he seemed like a man both drowning and dying of thirst in the same moment — like he craved attention but didn’t feel he _deserved_ it. of course i didn’t understand why. he was hope estheim. once director of the academy and heavens knew he’d done more than what humanity deserved.

he was the last of people i expected to see here after nearly two hundred years selling my tears in the blossoming market district surrounding the south station of luxerion. my eyes lowered to the concrete, then came back to meet his. but it was hard to look him in the eyes. he seemed so … **broken**.

_“can you … explain this to me? just once more, luka… i’ve heard the stories, but … i’d like to hear it from you.”_  


i nodded, but hesitantly. he had to know what the story was. didn’t he?  **❝of course, mister estheim. i sell tears. people say they’re magical, but … i know it’s really just that i help them remember all the pain they’ve tried to put aside.❞**  his head nodded, a soft mumble coming from him. he seemed to be thinking — confirming something?

the strangest customer i’d ever had, but …

**❝i can help you. i know i can.❞**  i **_had_  **to… if he stayed like this for too much longer … i worried what would become of him. yet no matter how i tried, the tears just … wouldn’t _come_. i couldn’t cry for him, like i had for so many others. did he truly **want**  my help? or was he simply coming in a last ditch effort to see if he’d already given up?  


that was the last anyone saw him… i found out after a week or two that he’d disappeared.  
i had always known i was his last chance…  
even now, i wonder if i just didn’t try hard enough.

 


End file.
